


Anniversary gift

by ChocoNut



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Westeros, Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, Mutual Pining, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21395026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: King Jaime of the Westerlands, and Brienne, the only eligible noblewoman around are forced to get married by their fathers. Keen to end their relationship, they file for a divorce, but as per Westerosi divorce laws, they can call off their marriage only after a year together.At the end of the year, Jaime, who is about to join the war, has a gift for his wife.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 22
Kudos: 187





	Anniversary gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ro_Nordmann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/gifts).

> An advance birthday gift to Ro, who wanted Historical AU + Marriage of Convenience  
I decided to plug in Royalty as well, so Happy Birthday and hope you enjoy this fusion mix :)
> 
> Disclaimer : My knowledge of history is quite poor, so WWII is only the background with no other contribution to the story.

The year had finally ended. It was time.

When Jaime had married her exactly twelve months ago, how was he to know that he’d lose his heart to her? 

When they had reluctantly exchanged vows for a life of togetherness neither of them were inclined towards, he had not expected to warm up to her as the days went by. At the end of the year they’d been compelled to spend together, he wanted to let go of her, not yearn for a life with her. When he had made her a promise on their wedding night, he had not even the slightest inkling that he’d be parting with her with tears in his eyes; invisible tears that he wouldn’t shed in front of her.

Brienne had no love for him, but a life to build, a life of her own, away from him with not even his shadow to fall upon her independence, and the least he could do for the woman he’d grown to admire and pine for in the last twelve months was to give her something she’d cherish for a lifetime to come. Armed with the only thing that could ensure her happiness, he headed towards the library, for was where he’d find her, in the midst of books, the only company she craved apart from her solitude, for she was a woman unlike another, a woman with no interest in dresses and parties and dances, far advanced in appearance and thinking than what the society expected from those of her sex.

A queen, she was, not only in the title, but of his heart as well. But she’d never know that. He could never tell her if he had to do what he was bound to.

“Your Majesty.” She rose to greet him as soon as he stepped in, putting away the heavy volume she’d been perusing.

“_ Jaime, _” he corrected her, as was their daily routine, as was his habit to get her to call him by his name. “I may be the king, but I’m your husband, Brienne,” he took the effort to point out again, though that would no longer hold good in the days to come. “Call me Jaime. In private, if not in others’ presence,” he insisted, hoping she’d heed this time at least. 

_ Just this once, _ he ached from within, yearning to hear her say his name. _ Just today, _ he said a silent prayer, _ for the first and the last time, for me to remember her when she’d be gone from my life forever. _

“You know I can’t,” she politely turned him down, and Jaime exhaled, giving up. 

But none of this was a surprise, not even the disappointment that was eating him. He had known what to expect. If nothing had changed all these days, why would it now? Biting down the pain that clenched his chest, he decided to get it over with before the weakness his feelings had left him with could tear down the resolve he’d carefully built up to tackle with this moment. “Today’s our first anniversary, Brienne.”

She stiffened. “I know.”

He hesitated for a second, the sweat in his palms staining the papers he held. “I have something for you - a gift.” He handed the bunch to her. “Read it,” he urged, when she questioned his eyes.

Stoic, as always, her expression was, when she skimmed through the agreement, neither a smile nor a frown to give away what she truly felt. “Divorce papers,” she noted, her thumb lingering on his signature at the end.

“As promised on this night last year, I have it ready for you at the end of our first and final year of marriage,” he reminded her, recalling the Westerosi divorce laws he’d been researching when he had filed for separation. One year, he’d been told, they would have to live together and put up with one another, at the end of which, if their marriage was still unconsummated, they were free to part ways if they wished to. “Sign it, Brienne, and you’re free to pursue your quest for independence.” 

Thunderstruck, she looked up from the paper. “But--”

The weight on his chest kept growing, threatening to crush him, to squeeze the air out of his lungs, but the happiness of the woman he loved was of more importance to him than his own. “I have another gift for you,” he said, then went on to hand her an envelope. “Tickets,” he told her, answering another quizzical gaze. “You’ll be sailing out of here tonight in the guise of a civilian--”

She tried to interrupt. “Where--”

“To Essos. The free cities are your eventual destination, right?”

She dropped the papers on the table next to her. “What about you?” she probed. “What will you do? The war is at its peak--”

“And I’ll soon be in the thick of it,” he informed her, “to do what I can to defend our kingdom--”

“Why you?” she demanded. “You’re the king.”

“I’m a soldier first, Brienne,” he argued, frustrated that she was wasting their limited moments together in a pointless discussion, “then a King, but I won’t be for long. Once the war is over, whichever side triumphs, monarchy might meet its end, reducing leftover royal families like mine to nothing--”

“I’m coming too,” she announced, defiant and determined. “I’m your queen. I can fight. I want to help save our people.”

He shook his head, masquerading a melancholic sigh as a casual deep breath. “Women aren’t permitted to,” he tried to reason with her, and before she could say something in protest, he hastily justified, “Westeros is a man’s world, Brienne, which is why you must get out of here. You don’t belong here.” _ You don’t belong with me, _he actually meant, his mind spiraling back on a recollection of the year that had gone by. The hundreds of moments they’d spent in forced union came rushing to the forefront of his memory, as did the countless handholds they’d indulged in, though just a show for the world that saw them as one. 

A farce, their life had been, but not without its occasional rays of bright sunshine. For him, though not for her.

Pulling himself together, he decided to cut it to a swift end, unwilling to prolong the conversation to a point from where returning would be next to impossible for him. “Good bye, Brienne,” he whispered, taking her hand in his, allowing his fingers to overstay their welcome, threaded in hers for as long as this moment could permit him. “Have a good life,” he wished her, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

She blinked, her large blue eyes binding his in a restraint, he feared, he might never be able to break free of all his life, though she’d be free of his constant presence and the bond of their relationship soon. “Will you write to me?” she asked, her voice softer than usual, her tone, gentler than it had ever been.

A slow movement of his head in denial conveyed the agonizing stand he’d taken, a sullen, “I won’t,” accompanying it to make his intentions clear. 

Her eyes were still on him, though it felt as if the usual fire in them had been suppressed, dulling their astonishing radiance. “You’re leaving now?” she asked, her tone slightly accusatory. “Won’t you be around tonight to say goodbye?”

“I won’t,” he said again, unable to hold back a sad smile.

When she said nothing after that, he turned to leave, hiding his damp eyes from her, hoping they’d soon dry up to restore normalcy in his life.

A normalcy that could _ never _ be normal. Not without her.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


*****

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ He doesn’t love me, _Brienne kept telling herself, pacing the vast expanse of the room, but the painful conclusion wasn’t enough to drag her out of his house and away from his life like he’d so easily wished it; like he had thought it his responsibility to facilitate. Their marriage had been a sham right from the beginning, a trap their fathers had sprung to keep them in shackles forever, a life-imprisonment, as she had seen it exactly a year ago when she’d been forced to walk down the aisle and hold his hand, a punishment she had wanted a way out of from the second she’d stepped into this room.

A grueling sentence, it had seemed then, though over the course of a year, her opinion of him had majorly altered, bringing with it a change in her perception of him, a change in her, and an encroachment of _ him _ into her heart before even she could comprehend it.

_ He doesn’t want me, _she muttered under her breath, the corners of her eyes beginning to sting with tears she’d refused to shed all day. An hour behind schedule, she was, her transport to freedom due to leave within half an hour, but far from packed, she was, and far from prepared, to leave, to let go of him without even a final goodbye.

The bedroom door swung open, the sudden movement providing Brienne a temporary respite from the pain she’d been suffering from all day.

“You’re still here,” said Jaime, coming to a halt at the door as soon as he spotted her, his eyes wide with shock and astonishment. “Isn’t it time for you to--”

“You didn’t even say a proper goodbye,” she lashed out, then blushed profusely, her complaint sounding extremely childish the moment she’d blurted it out.

His eyes flew to her luggage strewn about the room and her clothes lying on the bed, waiting to be folded and stuffed into the empty suitcases. “You aren’t packed yet,” he observed, his tone blatantly conveying his panic and urgency. “Hurry up or else--”

“Not until we’ve had a proper conversation,” she asserted, then picked up the papers that were about to write her destiny and approached him.

Jaime began to object again, eyes blazing with frustration and confusion. “There’s no time--”

“So easy to get rid of me, isn’t it?” she croaked, holding out the documents. “Just two signatures and we’re done for good, never to see each other’s faces again.”

He regarded her with a look that probed into her soul. “You wanted it.”

“So did you,” she was quick to add, transported back to the conversation they’d had on what was supposed to be their wedding night.

“Our fathers pressurized us into this,” he reminisced, “pushing us into something we were dead against, a relationship we both despised--”

“You still despise me,” she accused him, attacking his eyes with hers.

His chest rose heavily, then came back to rest when he denied her claim with a soft, “I don’t.”

“Then why did you--” she flared up, but unable to finish her question, she thrust the papers into his face.

Another deep breath later, he replied, “Because you craved a life outside this confinement, a life that you can never have with a man like me, a life of your own.” He halted, presumably in careful consideration of what to say next. “I’m not made for marriage, Brienne. I’m not worthy enough to have a wife.”

She advanced, standing closer to him than she could remember. “For twelve months I’ve been with you, and not even once have you asked me to do anything you wanted me to,” she said, marveling the extent of freedom she’d been granted despite marrying into a royal family.

Lines, the weight of the memory, perhaps, creased his forehead when he answered her with a diplomatic, “I didn’t want to force you into anything. I wanted you to be comfortable and consider this your home.”

“You never expected me to do everything a lady of noble birth ought to,” she went on, reminded of how he’d arranged for shooting and fencing lessons as soon as he’d got wind of her interests. “You let me pursue my passions, defending me against your father when he raised objections, not caring about what the world spoke about the queen who couldn’t be one.”

“I wanted you to leave with happy memories, Brienne.”

“You never forced me to participate in social functions, dances and everything else a wife of yours ought to be present at,” she pointed out. 

His frown deepened, his gaze flitting to the open suitcases lying around them. “There is no time for this, Brienne--”

She silenced him with an abrupt movement, encroaching into his private space, then gathering all the courage she could, she placed a hand on his chest. “Remember this?” she asked, tracing the bullet scar below his collarbone.

Trapping her with his eyes again, he breathed, “How could I forget?” 

“You took this for me,” she refreshed his memory, her vision blurred by the annoying threat of tears again, “to save me from being raped, to save my life.”

“I’d die for you, Brienne.” His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes as moist as hers. “I’d do it all again if I had to, if--”

“How dare you think you’re unworthy of a wife?” she shouted, unable to hold back anymore. “How could you even dream of sending me away with just a bunch of papers, _ Jaime _?”

His mouth fell open upon hearing his name. “I thought you wanted--”

“I don’t,” she corrected him, her voice choked. “You don’t know what I want. One year with me and you know nothing about me.”

“I don’t understand--”

“This--” She shoved the offensive papers into his face again. “This isn’t what I want.”

His eyes were slits of disbelief, but he didn’t push her away, nor did he attempt to revert to a safe distance from her like he usually did. “What, then?”

Her hand still on his heart, she could feel his pulse racing. “_ You _ , Jaime,” she confessed, grasping a fistful of his shirt, savouring the sound of his name, “not a life in Essos. I--” _ love you, _she ached to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come, betraying her when it mattered the most. “But it doesn’t matter,” she resumed, steadying her quivering voice as soon as visions of her future loomed in front of her, “you don’t want me. You want to drive me away and go out in the war, all guns blazing. Have you ever considered what I’d go through if you happened to perish behind enemy lines? How the hell did you even imagine I’d disappear across the seas and leave you alone to face a bleak future all by yourself--”

He kissed her. 

And _bleak_, their future seemed to be no more, for the first time in the whole year they’d been married. His lips felt like they were always meant to be one with hers, like the angels had showered their blessings on her, like the war had come to an end, bringing peace to the world. _My world, _she thought, closing her eyes in bliss she’d never known before. Draping her arms around his neck in an embrace she wouldn’t ever let go, she let herself be dragged along with him, kissing him back with want that made her blush, her desire for him flaring up beyond proportions, never to be suppressed, never to be extinguished, forever alive and burning for him. 

“Never thought the day would end like this when I handed you these papers,” he said, tenderly kissing her again within a second of letting her go.

She began ripping the documents to shreds. “You can’t get rid of me this easily, Jaime,” she gently scolded him, then tossed the scraps into the nearest rubbish bin with relish. Her cheeks growing warm, she cupped his face. “I have a first anniversary gift for you as well.” Hoping the fire inside her wouldn’t burn her to cinders, she murmured, “the wedding night we ought to have had a year ago,” her arms around his neck again.

Burying her face in his chest, she placed a soft kiss to his throat. 

“I’d very much like that,” he whispered, his hot breath on her neck and his seductive voice in her ear leaving her tingling all over, “and to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, _ wife, _” he added, pulling her into an intimate embrace. 

_ In your arms, _she decided, surrendering to him.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
